


Winter Is Coming

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She wakes up in the middle of the night to a handsome surprise hidden in the shadows of her kitchen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Winter is Coming**

She growls under her breath as she squints at the clock on her nightstand. _1:34 a. m._ She lays in her bed, not really caring that the air is colder than normal. Winter is coming soon so she doesn't think anything of the chill in the air.

She stares into her dark ceiling before throwing her covers off her and onto the ground. Her arm hair raises as the air is colder than she thought, though she doesn't think much of it.  She stretches her arms above her head, regretting wearing a loose t-shirt and those short pajama shorts she got for Christmas last year from her boyfriend. _Ex-boyfriend,_ she reminds herself, frowning.

Her boyfriend had broken up with her about a week ago because she refused to let him touch her in a sexual manner. It's not the fact that she _doesn't_ want to have sex with him, it's not like she hasn't before. It's just the last time (and first time) she had sex, she did not enjoy it and it hurt really bad.

She wraps her arms around herself, remembering that she must have forgotten to close the window in her small and empty living room. She opens the door and steps into the small foyer area.  She pads down the small hallway and turns into the entrance of the kitchen, wanting a glass of water and some sleeping tabs to help her fall asleep.

She freezes as she sees a dark figure out of the corner of her eye. Her heart drops in dread and increasing fear as the figure stares at her behind a mask, seated on one of the bar stools at her island.  His head is tilted and his ice blue eyes strike a cold feeling in her. She looks at him, her heart stopping and picking up its pace.

He allows his eyes to wonder over the girl's short figure. Her breasts are somewhat small, but her bottom makes up for it in its larger size. She's average in size, not too big and not too small. He doesn't like the girls who either starve themselves or don't take care of their health.

He's been watching this girl and has learned that she's quite fit despite the slight weight on her lower body. He doesn't mind that her thighs are somewhat large as it gives him something to grab.

While her stomach does not curve inwards under her ribs, it does not stick out much either. _Perfect_ is how he would describe it. _Healthy. Strong,_ even.

They continue to stare at one another, her in fear and him in increasing interest.

She swallows as he looks over her body. She knows that she's not too attractive to some men, though she knows a lot like her body. Many at work, a bar, tell her this daily.

He taps his fingers on the counter, making the girl flinch out of her deer-in-headlights look. She bites her lip and his piercing eyes watch the movement. She exhales a shuddering breath.

“U-Uhm... hi?” she stutters out to this _very muscular man_ in her kitchen. His lips tilt up in amusement, though she can't see that. She hopes that if she plays nice and innocent, which she is, that he may decide _not_ to do what she's sure he's going to do.

“Hello,” he plays along, his voice a barely audible Russian tilt. Silence chokes her and he finds her fidgety behavior amusing.

She looks at him in the very dim light. He's tall even though he's sitting down. _He's most likely six-foot._ She can easily see his muscles and oddly enough a silver sheen coming off his left arm. She squints through the light and her eyes widen as she realizes that his left arm is _metal_.

There's a glove wrapped around his metal hand and by the dull light coming off it from the moon, it's leather. She notes that the tactical gear covering his chest and right arm also has the dull sheen.  His cargo pants are somewhat cloth, though the dull sheen is on there, too. She freezes in her wondering as her eyes fix on the bulges at his waist. She also sees the holster wrapped around one toned thigh.

Her breath catches in fear as she sees the weapons on the man. Her eyes snap to his cold ones and he's still watching her. He's amused by the way she freezes when she spots his weapons. His head is still cocked to the side and he stares into her golden-brown eyes.  He slowly slides off the bar stool and his strong figure blocks some of the light coming through the window, though she's not completely blind. “You're going to be a good girl for me and not scream, yes?” he asks her, stepping towards her threateningly.

She bites her lip and nods her head hesitantly. She's seen this happen numerous times in movies and books to know that it'll be worse if she does not follow his orders. “Good,” he tells her in a pleasant tone, lifting his fingers to his face and pulling off his mask that is somewhat tucked underneath his scarf.

She stares at the man before her, though she can't make out his features clearly in the dull light. All she knows is that he's got some scruff and that he's handsome. _Extremely_ handsome.

“Now,” he says, his voice gruff. “Why don't you show me to your room, Doll?” And odd heat flushes through her at the old endearing term. She trembles in fear as she turns around and leads him to her room.

He quirks a smile to himself, knowing that she will not fight him. He's watched her long enough to know that she's smart. That she'll listen to him. That she'll do whatever she can to lessen the stress of a situation. Especially one like this.

She shuffles quickly to her room as she feels the body heat of him behind her. She knows that she shouldn't listen to what he's telling her. She _knows_ what he's going to do to her. But, she doesn't try to fight him. She's _allowing_ him to do what he wants to do.

She steps into her somewhat small bedroom and stands in the center of it. She turns around looks at the hulking figure in her room. She bites her lip as he leans upon her door frame, looking at the practically barren room.  His fingers wrap around the gun in his holster and she freezes, watching as he lifts the pistol out of his holster and looks down at it. She barely breathes as he handles the gun gently, her breath caught in her throat.

“I won't use this,” he says lowly, walking over to her dresser and placing the gun on its clean surface. He puts his back to her, not worried that she'll try something. She's not the violent type, he learned.  He places the gun from his other hip holster and the one strapped across his back on the surface next to the first one, however, he leaves the knife strapped to his thigh. He _will_ be using that one.

He turns around and looks at the girl standing in the center of her room by the end of her bed. His lips tilt into a smile at her convenient placement. He stalks over to her slowly, taking pleasure in the way she chews on her lower lip.

She moves backward a few steps as he walks closer to her. Her breath hitches in her throat as her thighs right below her bottom hit the edge of her bed. She looks downward as he continues walking forward.

He doesn't stop until his chest is pressing against her breasts. He lifts his metal hand and places it under her jaw gently, tilting her head up. She looks into his eyes and she thinks he looks almost _gentle_.

His head bends down until their foreheads are pressed against one another and their breaths are mingling. Her heart beats hard against her ribs as his natural hand lifts the bottom of her shirt and places itself around her hip.  He pulls their waists together and she lets out a small squeak as his growing bulge presses against her. “I want you to enjoy this,” he whispers softly, his lips brushing against her own as his beard slightly scratches her chin.

She stops breathing as he says that he wants her to enjoy this, but she's scared. She's only ever done this once and that was a total disaster. It only lasted about three minutes and the whole time she felt pain.

He doesn't wait for her to say anything and he presses his lips into hers gently, a clash with the harsh grip he has on her hip. His soft innocent kiss becomes harsher within a few seconds as he bites down on her lip, swiping his tongue over the indent afterward.  Despite herself, she slowly kisses him back. She knows this is rape, but she also knows she won't escape it. And deep down, she's longing for someone to hold her in their arms like he is.

The kiss becomes heated as he pushes into her. His metal hand moves from her chin to her hip and nearly crushes it in a tight grip. He breaks the kiss for a moment to lift her up and toss her on the bed as if she weighs nothing but a pound or two.

He crawls up the bed as she pushes herself onto her elbows. Her knees come together as he draws closer and he lifts an eyebrow. She doesn't open her legs, though he doesn't mind placing his hands on her knees and easily pulling them apart.  He moves in between her legs and with a single push to her chest, she's laying flat on her back. He grasps both of her hands into his metal hand and pins them above her head.

Despite not wanting to have sex with him, she can't help but get excited at the way he's touching her. _It's not sex. It's rape,_ she tries to remind herself, but she melts into him anyway.  She gets confused when he lets go of her wrists but then she sees him pulling at his long scarf. It easily unravels and she blushes as he loops the scarf around a few rungs on her headboard and ties her hands together.

He looks over his handiwork with a small smirk. He grabs the knife from the holster on his thigh and lifts it up. She stills as she sees the weapon and watches it intently as he places it beside her hip.

She makes an odd noise as he roughly grabs the fabric of her shirt and easily rips it off her. _I was going to throw it out anyway,_ she thinks, not caring that he just ripped her ex's old shirt. She blushes as her breasts go on full display, however, cursing herself that she didn't wear a bra to bed like she usually does.

He throws the fabric to the side and looks down at her breasts with curiosity in his eyes. He leans down and runs his nose and scruff along them, making her shiver at the odd tingling feeling.  He uses the fingers on both of his hands to pull at her nipples before wrapping his lips around one. He leaves a few open mouth kisses on them, taking a few seconds to roll the small nub between his teeth.

He does it to both breasts before picking up the knife and placing it at the base of her shorts. He easily cuts one side in a single fluid motion before doing it to the other side. He removes the cloth and throws it off to the side.

He leans over her now that she's almost bare of anything. He grabs her hips and pulls her into him, grinding down into her crotch. Her teeth abuse her bottom lip as her breath hitches in her throat. She pants out as she wraps her hands around the scarf.

She pulls on the fabric as his lips brush against her throat, leaving hot open mouth kisses along the base of her neck. His beard brushes against her heated skin as he brings his mouth higher and higher.  He sucks on the skin right under her jaw before biting it gently, pushing into her as her throat rumbles in a soft moan. The cold metal of his left-hand brushes against the heated skin of her hip and tighten as she grinds up into him despite herself.

His grip is so tight on her that she's sure that it'll be blue and purple in the morning. She doesn't pay mind to it as she for some reason likes the thought of him physically marking her as his. His other hand gently traces over her ribs by her breast.  His thumb grazes over her nipple and she presses into him more, mentally begging him to continue touching her despite what she thought earlier. He pinches the small nub before moving his hands lower.

He kisses her jaw, leaving bites as he makes his way to her lips. He leans up and wraps his metal fingers around her chin. The cold metal makes the hair on her arms raise as he pulls her face to his roughly.

His warm hand wraps around her thigh as he continues to grind into her, biting her lip as she pants. He sucks on her lip before completely locking his lips on hers, not asking for permission.  Their tongues intertwine in a heated kiss as he continues to grind his large bulge down into her. He removes his mouth from her as their chests quickly rise and fall as they both pant for air.

He moves her head to the side and kisses down the side of her neck and throat, biting and sucking at the hot skin there. Her breasts press into his chest as she breathes in air.

She arches her back and pulls on the scarf as he bites her sensitive collarbone and breathes harshly on the flushed skin. A shuddering breath leaves her open mouth as his metal hand grips the sheets beside her head tightly as he grinds down into her.

He removes his lips from her collarbone and unbuckles the holsters buckled around his chest and waist. His hands make quick work on the leather buttons of his chest-gear.  She watches him with hooded eyes as he easily pulls off the tank-top underneath. He slides off the bed and his muscles ripple as he pulls his boots off roughly, not bothering to untie the laces.

His black socks follow afterward and he easily rips off his knee pads. Soon his fingers are pulling down the zippers on his pants. She gulps and bites her lip roughly as his pants fall past his ankles, revealing the bulging erection in his boxers. He slides those off too and she's clenching her thighs together at the sight of it.

He doesn't pay mind to her slightly fearful form as he crawls over her, pressing his knee into her damp panties. His cold metal hand reaches down and rips the panties off as if tearing a piece of paper.  She gasps slightly as the fabric roughly pulls against her sides, causing a stinging sensation. She doesn't mind it too much as a heat flows through her at the show of strength.

He's leaning over her again and his erection now presses against her crotch with its heat and weight. Her eyes are wide and as he grinds down onto her. She trembles in fear and pleasure at the sensation, though fear crawls through her.

She whimpers as he moves one of her thighs out of the way. His head snaps up and he stares into her eyes that are currently looking at their crotches. He lifts his right hand and presses it to the side of her face.

Her chest is rising and falling quickly as she looks into his icy eyes in fear. He brushes his thumb against her cheek and it confuses her. He's somewhat forcing himself onto her but he's also comforting her and wants her to enjoy it.

“Please. I'm scared,” she whispers. He rests his head against hers.

“It's okay, Doll,” he tells her gruffly, ignoring the urge to grind down into her. “I'll make sure it won't hurt for long.” Despite knowing that this is still technically rape and she does not know him, his words calm her down.

Her fear-ridden heart slowly calms as he traces circles into her hip. He's leaning over her and braces himself against the mattress on his metal arm. He guides himself to her entrance and promptly slams his hips forward, stopping once he's fully hilted.

She whimpers in pain and pleasure as he fills her, not used to the feeling of being so _full_. He doesn't move, however, and allows her to adjust to his large size. She lets out a shaky breath as the pain fades and the pleasure takes the driver seat.  She pulls on the scarf for leverage and bucks her hips up slightly, and he groans into her neck. “Are you sure you want to do that, _Printsessa_?” he asks gruffly, grinding his crotch into hers. He doesn't allow her to answer and begins to move.

He pulls back until he's nearly out of her before slamming forward again. He repeats the process over and over again, enjoying the way she shudders and whines against him.

Despite herself, she begins to buck back into him. Enjoying what's happening. She knows that she originally didn't want this, but she'll think about that later. Right now what's on her mind is increasing the pleasure and release.

She pants out small breaths as he grinds roughly into her, using his right hand to pull her hips to his. She tries to keep the embarrassing noises in, but she can't help but moan as he changes angles.  He kisses the side of her throat and groans into her at her tight heat. He slams into her over and over again, appreciating the way she bucks into him in pleasure and tightens around his girth.

“Please,” she breathes out, her body shuddering as she tightens around him. “Please.” He bites her collarbone with open mouth kisses and grinds deeply into her, pleasure and the thought of upcoming release filling him.

His hips slam against hers harder as he growls into her shoulder, a bruising grip around the back of her thigh. He moves faster and faster and soon he's moving barely an inch, but it feels so good that he doesn't bother moving more than that.

His muscles tense and tremble as he pulls back once more and slams into her. She tightens considerably around him and throws her head back, a sharp gasp and a chocked moan escaping her as she finally feels her release.

He can't hold it any longer and slams into her one more time, tensing and curling around her as he begins to empty into her. Heavy panting breaths feel the cold atmosphere of her room as the two get through their sex-induced high.  He pulls out of her and lays beside her as she shivers somewhat. She's panting and out of breath. He pulls her covers from the floor and wraps an arm around her, pulling her into him.

“Can you untie me?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**The Day After**

She mutters low under her breath as the sun peaks through her windows, shining right into her eyes. She goes to turn over, though groans softly at the unpleasant ache between her thighs.

Her eyes shoot open at the reminder of last night's events, though she clenches them tightly due to the blinding light. She blinks her eyes to adjust to the light before gently pushing herself onto her elbows, appreciating the fact that her hands are no longer tied to her headboard.

She blushes at the thought as a heat flows towards her core. She looks around her room disorientedly and takes note that it looks the same as it did last night and his guns are no longer sitting on her dresser.

She looks over the side of her bed and blushes at the sight of her ripped and torn clothing. Her blue panties sit there, too, like the cherry on top of an ice cream sundae. She rubs her thighs together, groaning at the pain and the sticky feeling between them.

She softly pushes herself off the bed and stumbles to the side, gasping sharply at the pain echoing through her hips and core. _How rough was he last night!?_

She screws her face up as she feels some of his cum from last night begin to run down her legs. _Good thing I'm on birth control._ She immediately walks to her en-suite bathroom, keeping her thighs together as to avoid a further mess.

She cleans herself up, avoiding looking into the mirror until she's completely showered and dried. She dries herself off, towel drying her hair as she's too lazy to bend down and plug in her hair dryer.

She sucks in a deep breath and turns towards her mirror. She doesn't know what to expect, though she sharply sucks in a breath at the dark blue and purple marks _covering_ her hips and the back of her thighs.

The bruises are no where else, save for the small red marks from where she pulled at her bindings and the hickeys covering her neck and throat. She pokes one of the bruises and hisses in immediate regret.

“Well I did say that I didn't mind the thought of him physically marking me,” she mutters under her breath, ignoring the warmth that flows through her at the thought. _And mark me, he did._

She stretches out her body, moaning softly as her muscles become loose and the somewhat aching pain relieves itself. The soreness is still there, but it's not as much as it was when she first woke up.

She walks into her room, hanging up her used towels on the hook she placed on the door just for that purpose. She slips on a large black t-shirt, another of her ex's, and waist-high panties that don't quite hide all of her bruises. Her fingers easily wrap her hair into a loose ponytail.

 _That'll do for now,_ she thinks to herself, opening the door to the hallway. She ignores the thought of the last time she did this and heads into her kitchen. She freezes in the doorway as she sees him in just his pants.

He doesn't turn around when he senses the girl behind him, adding a lot of milk and sugar to her coffee. He only adds a table-spoon of sugar and a splash of milk to his own.

He doesn't worry about her grabbing his weapons that sit on her table. He turns around and drinks in the sight of her frozen in the doorway, eyes wide and half naked.

This time, he's the one to bite his lip and he sees her eyes look at the movement. He clears his throat and she's out of her trance. Her eyes snap to his and he likes the pink tint to her pale cheeks.

He grabs her coffee with his metal hand and holds it out to her, tilting his head to the side. She looks at the hot drink in his metal hand warily, remembering how the cold felt against her flushed skin last night.

She swallows and his eyes travel across her bare throat covered in his bites. “I won't bite,” he says, knowing that it's not true from what he did last night. It seems like she remembers it too by the reddening of her cheeks.

She steps towards him, hesitant that he may grab her and have his way with her again. She's also very confused. Last night he practically forced himself onto her, no, _he did force himself onto her_ , but here he is, acting all domestic to her. And in her own kitchen, no less!

Her hand trembles as she grabs the hot drink. She blows on it and lifts it to her lips slowly, not wanting to burn herself. His eyes watch her every move as he leans against the counter, sipping at his own coffee.

She bites the bullet and takes a sip of it, hissing as it burns her tongue. “It's hot,” he tells her, lifting an eyebrow at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, really?” she says sarcastically. “I didn't notice.” It takes her a moment to realize what she's said before shes looking at him, fearful that he may hurt her for talking back to him.

He just looks at her in amusement and nods towards the counter he sat at last night, telling her to take a seat. Still scared that he may do something, she follows his command and sits at the seat across from his.

He sits across from her, leaning over the counter and sipping his coffee. They both sip their coffees in silence and gaze at one another. She's trying to not look at his shirtless form, though she's failing miserably. She doesn't show it, though she's shocked and somewhat pitiful as she looks at the scars on him. Particularly the ones where his metal arm is attached to his body. He's staring at the marks he's left on her neck, throat, and collarbone in shameful regret.

He sets his mug down and waits for her to sip the rest of her coffee. A minute later and her black mug joins his white one. She fidgets in her chair, wincing as the pain flares up from between her legs.

He sees this and frowns slightly in regret. “I didn't think that I was that rough,” he mutters lowly in his gruff voice, making her shiver at the sound of it. She swallows, thinking of what to say.

“It's okay,” she says softly, knowing that it is in fact _not okay_. Her statement flips a switch in him and suddenly his natural hand slams on the counter, making her jump in her seat.

“It is _not_ okay!” he roars, attempting to keep his voice down as he knows she has neighbors next door. “I _raped_ you last night. You should _not_ be sitting here and tying to _console_ me!”

She bites her lip, wondering what happened with the change of attitude. Last night he was perfectly fine pinning her to her bed and having his way with her, though now he seems to hate himself for it. _As he should,_ her mind whispers to her.

“I wouldn't exactly call it rape,” she mutters under her breath, the term too harsh for what she'd consider last night to be. She knows that it's _technically_ rape by law, though she wouldn't consider it that.

He seems to hear her soft statement, despite the fact that she barely heard it with her own ears. “Then what would you call it?” he mutters lowly, trying to keep his voice down.

“I liked it, so I wouldn't exactly call it rape. Maybe pushy sex?” she says, wincing at her words. In her book, though, if you enjoyed it and allowed it to happen without some form of denile, it's not exactly rape, though it's not fully consensual either. It's in-between the two, though not either.

He raises an eyebrow at the girl. He's somewhat confused. He raped this girl last night, forced himself onto her, and she's sitting here. Telling him that he _did not_ rape her.

He swiftly slips out of his chair and grabs her upper arms. He pulls her off her stool and pins her against the counter. He's looking sharply into her wide eyes as he cages her in.

She's too shocked by the quick movement to be scared. Startled? Yes. But not scared. He lifts up the hem of her shirt and pulls down the side of her panties to reveal her purple hips.

He lays his hand on one of the marks, it perfectly fitting the shape of his hand. “Would someone grab you like this and leave marks like this on you if you were having sex?” he asks her lowly, taking his hand off the bruise and showing it to her.

The girl looks down at this and does not meet his eyes, embarrassed as she answers him. “I wouldn't know,” she says softly. “You're basically the first _real_ time I've ever had sex with someone.”

He doesn't say anything and she can feel his stare burning into her. He lets out a deep breath and she almost jumps at the sudden noise. “Are you telling me that I was your first time?” he asks, his voice low and serious as he asks her the question.

She looks up into his eyes sharply at this. “No. No!” she says, somewhat loud. She flinches as the rushed words make him seem to believe that it was in fact her first time. “I mean, no, not really. I've only had sex once before this and it completely sucked and only lasted about three minutes.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “So I'm your first, then?” Her shoulders slump and she sighs in resignation.

“Yeah, basically.”

He doesn't know what to think of this. At one end of the spectrum, he's glad that she wasn't truly a virgin, but on the other side, he's guilty that he was basically her first and he raped her.

“You said you liked it?” he asks, his voice pure confusion and curiosity. She feels her whole body flush at his words, though she nods her head slightly. “Why?” She shrugs her shoulders, though she knows exactly why she enjoyed last night.

He was so rough. So pleasantly rough and he actually seemed to care about her, despite forcing himself onto her. He was kind of gentle and sweet when he kissed her and he actually made her wet instead of going in dry. Her previous boyfriend didn't even wait that long or bother.

“You were gentle,” she says at last, staring at her feet. She peaks up at him to see a raised eyebrow of disbelief. “When you kissed me at first. And when you actually took time to make me ready instead of just _fucking me without remorse_.”

She looks down as she says the last bit, a blush warming up her face. She hears him clear his throat in what she assumes to be embarrassment. “Not that I wouldn't have minded too much...” she mutters under her breath, freezing as she remembers that he most likely heard what she said.

He's looking down at her as she glances up at him, an odd expression on his face. He not only seems to be somewhat amused and confused, but also embarrassed...?

He places his hands on either side of her, caging her in. “You like it rough, Doll?” he asks, his voice a gravely whisper, sounding like a growl. She shivers as his breath brushes gently against her ear.

She avoids looking at him at all cost, and can't help but let out a squeak as he bites her earlobe. He presses against her, pressing a kiss beneath her ear. He somehow manages to find a clear patch of skin before biting at the area softly, breathing against it as she shivers in response.

She moans out quietly as he fully presses himself against her. Her hands lift up and press themselves against his chest, making him tense up. She lets her hands roam across his chest before moving them towards his shoulders.

His metal hand grasps around her wrist gently as she almost comes in contact with his scars. “Don't,” he says gruffly, stepping away from her. She looks at him in confusion, though doesn't comment on his switch of behavior.

“'M'sorry,” he says, looking away from her. “For everything” She bites her lip as she thinks. He's done things to her that she may not have wanted at the beginning, though she thinks about it for a moment.

“I accept your apology,” she says, staring at his face. She hears his breath hitch as his eyes snap to hers. “While last night _was not_ okay, it's fine. I liked it and I don't mind what we did last night. And yes, I like it rough.” The last sentence is a sheepish whisper that she knows he can hear.

“I do not understand,” he says, frowning at the girl in front of him. He moves past her and sits on the bar stool that he's claimed as his. She sits across from him. “You're fine with the fact that I... _raped_ you?”

She thinks he sounds a bit childish and doesn't understand why he's so strung up on this. He had no problems with it last night and now he seems to have a one-eighty in behavior and emotions.

She sighs in exasperation. “ _Yes_. It's fine that _you had sex with me_.” She stresses the last part to make him see that he _didn't_ rape her in her eyes. He bites his lip and she watches the movement. She's satisfied when he doesn't go to counteract her statement.

“So... you like it rough?”

 


End file.
